Outfoxing The Fox
by Phoenix on cloud nine
Summary: Shawn is dragged into one of Henry's old cases that he didn't particularly like the first time round. Can everyone help Shawn before he gets in over his head? Shawn!Whump
1. Chapter 1

**Hi :) This is my first foray in Psych fanfiction, so the characterisation may be off, but I'll appreciate any hints or tips :) and I already have a few fics on the go, but what can you do when you really feel like writing something different? :) Enjoy :)**

_Santa Barbara, 1987_

"Shawn, come in here a second."

Shawn looked up at his Dad, a bad feeling erupting in the pit of his stomach. He followed his sombre looking father into the living room and sat down on the couch next to his mother, who was looking quite odd as well.

"If this is about that essay – Gus _said _I could have his to use." Shawn tried to defend himself.

"No, Shawn, it's not about that – but we'll talk about that later," Henry promised, before becoming even more serious. "Now, son; you know how I'm doing an important case?"

"The serial killer?" Shawn remembered seeing files strewn out on the kitchen table.

"That's it," Henry confirmed. "I arrested the guy today, but he confessed to having a partner. Now until we find him too, I don't want you going anywhere without and adult present, okay?"

"Why?" Shawn asked, confused.

Henry paused, looking to his wife for guidance. "Well, Goose," she said softly, "this man is very powerful and intelligent. His friend will be too. He'll be angry at your father for arresting the killer. This means he might try and find ways to hurt or scare your dad. Now while he's safe at the station or here because he's a policeman, you need to be extra careful. Understand?"

Shawn nodded, and then promised his parents he wouldn't go anywhere without them.

However, he went to put the trash out that night. And someone was waiting in the bushes. His loudest yell brought his dad running, but by that point, the man was gone, and Shawn had a long cut across his collar bone and going slightly over onto his back.

_Present_

Shawn was tired. Well, maybe a bit more than tired. Very tired. Nodding off in the Chief's chair tired. It wasn't his fault – why could she not have gotten rid of the extraordinary comfiness that this chair provided after she'd given birth? She didn't need a pregnancy chair now. Oh, and there may also be the small fact that he hadn't slept in just over 30 hours. They had just finished a case that required all and more of his brainpower, and he had so far managed to keep going on sugar alone. Whilst that had annoyed Gus, Shawn could tell that the fun part was well and truly over, as he was quickly crashing from his high.

The Chief had left her office about ten minutes ago, and so Shawn had snuck in to have another sit on her chair. Gus had been sent to get smoothies, ("If they don't have pineapple, go buy some and smush it up and stick it in, oh smoothie-maker extraordinaire!") which left Shawn waiting in her magic chair. Why was her office so warm as well? He felt like a cat stretching out in a patch of sun on a summer's day. Surely the Chief wouldn't mind if he had a small cat-nap? Heh, cat-nap…

"Mr Spencer, what are you doing?"

Shawn leapt up from his cosy position and looked up at Vick with hazy eyes. "Oh, Chief… is this your office? I'm sorry, I'll just…" he paused, his voice slurring as his foggy mind tried to come up with something.

She seemed to look at him with some pity. "Mr Spencer, don't leave – while you're here you may as well have a look at a case."

He seemed to brighten (Although not by much) and got off her chair to take the file she was passing him. Just at that moment, Gus came back balancing some smoothies in a cardboard. "Shawn, they only had pineapple and mango, not just pineapple on its own, and I know…" he trailed off, spying Vick. "Chief!" he squeaked in surprise. He looked over to where she was stood, her eyebrows raised. "This is _not _what it looks like, we were going to leave as soon as I got these, Shawn was just…"

"Gus don't be a… a thing holding smoothies," Shawn said to him, his exhausted tone evident.

Gus pulled a face at him, "Really? After every other thing you describe me as – that's what I get?"

"I'm trying to read, I can't multitask." Shawn muttered distractedly, slurping on his drink.

"You? I have seen you multitask thousands of times…"

"Gentlemen!" the Chief said swiftly. "Please. Mr Spencer, if you're too tired to do this…"

"No! Chief I'm fine –"

"Shawn you haven't slept in two days," Gus chipped in (_I thought he didn't notice_, Shawn thought). "And you're only fine because of the amount of energy you're taking in from that smoothie."

"Irrelevant!" Shawn dismissed, although he was feeling a lot better. Bouncy even. He was finally managing to take in some of the words on the page in front of him.

Vick watched him for a second, before deciding to tell him what was in the file, instead of waiting for his eyes to focus. "Mr Victor Miller was murdered in his apartment last night, and the whole room was trashed, so it's taken hours for us to bag everything that probably won't be of value."

"Chief, don't be so pessimistic," Shawn told her, beaming. "I can sense that you got something of deep importance in that apartment."

"We did find something that seemed out of place." She told him, and took the file from his hand to turn the page. She pointed to a piece of evidence photographed and marked on the sheet.

"A little figurine of a fox?" Gus frowned. "Either this guy's an _Ocean's 12_ fan, or -"

"There's something else," Shawn interrupted, looking down at the file, sucking on his straw like a small child with a lollypop. "He left a note saying 'You can never outfox a fox.'"

"Does he mention the pellet with the poison?" Gus asked nonchalantly.

"Gus don't be ridiculous, it's in the vessel with the pestle. Whereas the chalice from the palace holds the brew that is true." Shawn replied, bumping his elbow on Gus' fist as his hands were full.

"What are you two on about?" Vick asked, completely at a loss.

"It's a bit of a detour from our casual 80's references, but he left that wide open for us." Shawn said, draining his cup and throwing it in the bin, his energy somewhat renewed.

"_Anyway_," Vick started, "this is a calling card from a killer who used to kill years ago in Santa Barbara, his name is Oliver Volpe. All the signs point to it being the same man, but it could still be a copy cat," Her eyes flicked to Shawn before saying, "your father arrested him. He got out last year, since they could only pin one of the murders on him. Do you remember the case?"

Shawn nodded, his eyes slightly wider as he subconsciously touched his shoulder. "Chief, has anyone found his partner?"

She looked at him, "He went off the radar last…" she paused, "at about that time Vople was released…" she quickly ushered them out. "Gentlemen, see if you can find where these two are – bear in mind they are extremely dangerous so do _not _under any circumstances approach them. Lassiter!"

Shawn and Gus were left standing in the hallway as the whole department seemed to buzz with activity.

"Dude, I need to go see my Dad." Gus whipped around to look at his friend.

"What? Shawn, I think you need sleep. Desperately. Since when have you wanted to voluntarily go see him?"

"Gus, he worked this case back in the day, we need his input."

"Fine, but you need sleep. We go later."

"Dude – either you take me now, or I'll just drive my bike down there." Gus recognised that this was not an empty threat and sighed. Shawn was awful when stubborn, but he knew that there was something else going on. Maybe if he got Henry alone, he'd ask him. Maybe.

Unfortunately, while he'd been deliberating, Shawn had wandered over to Lassiter, and was annoying him the only way a hyper yet exhausted Shawn knew how, "Gus, Lassie said that if we leave now he won't give you a fine for parking your car next to the station!"

"What?" he asked, confused. "We always park there!" At Lassiter's face, he wished he could take those words back. "Uh, we won't in the future."

He finally managed to drag Shawn out and had to put up with his tired ramblings in the car before finally getting to Henry's.

* * *

"Shawn, you're making no sense, when was the last time you slept?"

"Why does everyone assume I'm tired?" Shawn whined, trying and failing to stop a yawn.

"What did you come here for, kid? I'm busy." Henry complained, slapping at Gus' legs with a magazine when they were about to rest on the coffee table.

"A case." Shawn said simply, rubbing at his eyes. He decided to get up and pace in an effort not to fall asleep.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" Henry sniped, going back into the kitchen to continue preparing his lunch.

"It's one of yours." Shawn told him, as he and Gus followed the elder Spencer through the house.

Henry paused for a second before turning round. "Which one?" he asked slowly.

"The ah…" Shawn stopped, not wanting to say.

"Mr Spencer, we need to know all about the Volpe case." Gus said, elbowing Shawn in the ribs for his cowardice. However, he was completely unprepared for Henry's response.

"No. No way, Shawn. You are not doing this to me," he ranted. "You remember _exactly _what happened last time. And that was his partner, think of what –"

"Oh they're both in on it now, we think." Shawn said pleasantly.

"Shawn – I will _ground _you if that's what it takes. You will _not_ be a part of that investigation."

"You'll ground me? Good luck with that, Dad. I haven't lived here in about ten years."

Gus felt extremely confused. What happened 'last time'? He was about to voice his query when Henry stabbed at Shawn's shoulder with his finger.

"And what about that, huh?" he started prodding harder, and Shawn was forced to keep walking backwards before he was pushed down. "Do you have any idea what me and your mother went through? I'm sure you remember fine what you went through -"

Gus suddenly realised what they were talking about. He remembered Shawn coming into school on a Monday with his arm in a sling and a bandage all the way round his shoulder and top half of his back. He never actually gave a straight answer as to how it happened.

"Shawn," he said, as both Spencers stopped and looked at him, Shawn two steps away from collapsing on the couch. "Is this about what happened to your shoulder ages ago?"

Shawn looked away, and was shocked when he was pushed onto the couch. "Sit down before you fall down, kid," Henry admonished. "And yeah, Gus – Shawn was cut by Volpe's partner who'd come after me. Now do you see why you can't take this case?"

Gus nodded, feeling shocked (and slightly light-headed) that such a thing had happened. Henry gave Shawn a glass of water and glared at him until he drank some.

"Dad, we need to take this case – it might be a copycat, it might actually be him – but he's killing people." Shawn told him, his words slurring more.

"Shawn, are you okay?"

"Gus don't be a… sleeping pill? Dad?" Shawn looked over to his father, who had the good grace to look guilty.

"You need sleep, and you aren't going to do it on your own. It's just a mild dose anyway."

Shawn slipped down the couch and was soon drooling on the cushions.

**Okay, ignore any britishisms please :P And I'm sorry this really feels like it's going nowhere, by I promise it is ;) Next chapter will be full of actiony-goodness :P And the odd reference to a film made in 1956, I couldn't help but reference XD anyone who actually knows what it's from without using Google wins a pineapple capable of giving birth to more pineapples :P Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Howdy ;) Thanks to those of you who reviewed – this is for you :P But whoever read and favourited or whatever, a little part of it is just for you as well ;)**

_Last Chapter:_

_"You need sleep, and you aren't going to do it on your own. It's just a mild dose anyway."_

_Shawn slipped down the couch and was soon drooling on the cushions._

Chapter 2

Shawn pushed himself up from his position on the couch. Sudden pain flaring from his shoulder had woken him. A blanket that he recognised as one of his mother's had been laid over him, and a quick glance out the window told him that Gus had gone home.

_Probably hours ago_, he thought, seeing how dark it was outside. Whatever his dad gave him really worked. Anger flared up inside him slightly as he remembered. He had a job to do, and his dad couldn't stop him just because he was _worried_. Whilst Shawn appreciated the gesture – although it did show what kind of screwy upbringing he'd had to think that being drugged by his own father was a gesture of love – it annoyed the hell out of him too.

He got up and wobbled slightly, the drug apparently still in his system; _mild dose my ass_.

He winced as he saw the small puddle of drool on the couch – it didn't take a 'psychic' to work out he would be the one to clean it – and made his way into the kitchen to get a drink; _hopefully not one laced with sleeping pills_ he thought wryly.

_Clunk._

He spun round; ignoring how dizzy it made him feel; and grabbed a frying pan that was sat on the bench.

_I'm just being paranoid, _he scoffed, _it's Dad's house – he'd be down here before any intruder; shotgun ready._

These thoughts did nothing to quench the paranoia and fear that were circling him. Hands shaking slightly, he inched towards the stairs, before hearing another _clunk _that appeared to have come from outside. _C'mon, man – don't be that guy in a horror flick that goes alone to investigate the noise and gets killed. _

Nevertheless, Shawn ignored himself and quietly opened the back door. He heard rustling in the bushes, and tightened the grip on his pan. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind hit the open door and it slammed shut. Shawn spun round, and heard another noise in the bushes, making him turn again.

He now felt on the point of collapse, but caught a glimpse of someone running from the bushes, having seen a light come on in the house.

_It can't be… _Shawn thought – _I know that face…_ He remembered being in the garden before; seeing that face, feeling pain down his shoulder before the man ran.

He heard more footsteps behind him, and decided to go for it. He squeezed his eyes shut, turned quickly and went to bring his pan down on the attacker's head with a yell.

"Shawn! Woah, woah, woah – Shawn, it's me!" he stopped and opened his eyes to see his dad's face in front of him, holding a pistol and having his hands in a defensive pose, ready to catch the pan before it struck.

"Dad?" Shawn immediately dropped the pan on the ground, his hands shaking from what he had seen.

"Shawn, what the hell are you doing?" Henry demanded, putting his gun on safety and picking the pan from the ground.

"There was… I'm not really sure…" Shawn felt exhausted once more. His shoulder seemed to be hurting again; for the first time in years. _I could be like Harry Potter, _he thought, _and every time evil dude is angry my scar'll hurt…_

"What? Shawn what are you talking about?" Oh. Apparently he'd said that all out loud.

"I…" Shawn seemed at a loss, but Henry was so far satisfied that his son no longer wanted to kill him with a frying pan – well, at least not today.

"Come back inside, kid." He instructed, having to take Shawn's arm and pull him back in.

He was slightly concerned at how much Shawn was glancing back out in the garden – and what he'd said about his scar. Though who this Harry guy was is anyone's guess. He sat Shawn back down on the couch, picking the old blanket up off the floor and folding it up.

"You know," he started conversationally. "Your mother always used to wrap you up in this if you were ill. The first time you had a cold, when you were about 3 weeks old she covered you in it. Chicken pox, flu – even broken bones. And that time when you were 13 and had that stomach flu. I had to spend all day sat down here with you watching old horror films." He glanced over at his son, who most likely hadn't listened to a word he'd said.

"Shawn," he repeated his son's name. At this, Shawn looked up. "What was it?" he asked. "Nightmare?"

"What?" Shawn asked, looking confused. "No, Dad – there was someone in the house! Didn't you hear them? I got up to get a drink and I heard them. But when I turned around they'd gone. Then I heard him outside – he ran when the door slammed."

Henry looked at him for a while. He'd heard the door slam – that was what woke him; but Shawn had been given quite a heavy dosage of sleeping pills; no way he was woken up by a small noise in the house.

"Dad," Shawn repeated, and Henry realised Shawn had said something else. "Dad, I recognised his face. It was Volpe's partner. I'm sure of it."

Henry could feel the blood drain from his face. _That _man had been in his house? Near his _son_?

"Ow…" Shawn whined mildly, rubbing at his shoulder scar again. "You know, it hasn't hurt in years. And now this case and it suddenly does?" He rubbed at it once more, "Maybe I am psychic."

Henry glared at him before his eyes widened and he stood up. "You're not psychic, kid," he grabbed his shoes and pulled them on. "It's bleeding."

Shawn looked down in amazement. His shirt was covered him blood. How had he not seen it before now? Although, he remembered, while his dad tried to get him to take his shirt off, his shirt was dark blue. And it was dark outside – and maybe his dad hadn't been paying attention to much when he'd brought him back inside?

He said as much and his dad just gave him a slightly irritated glare and checked his shoulder, "You much have cut it down the original one." Henry muttered, grabbing a towel and bunching it up to pat at the cut.

"Dad, you and I both know there is no way I could've cut it at any time from when I woke up to when you snuck up on me outside."

"Shawn, I didn't _sneak_ –" Henry stopped himself from arguing about trivial things and said, "Well, when else could you have done it?"

"Dad – I woke up _because _it was hurting." He paused. For someone supposedly so perceptive and a genius; it did take him a long time to figure things out tonight.

Apparently, his dad was working things out as well. "Get in the truck." He instructed, grabbing his first aid kit from a cupboard in the living room.

"Dad, I don't need the hospital –" Shawn tried to argue.

"No, it's not as deep – I can fix this at the police station."

"At the… Oh." Shawn finished stupidly. What was wrong with him at the moment? He could barely react to anything his dad was telling him, and didn't protest when he was bundled into the truck.

"Keep this towel over it; don't forget to –"

"Put pressure on it, I know…" Shawn replied tiredly, slipping back to sleep on the ride there.

* * *

"Henry! What are you –" Karen stopped, seeing that a) he was in his pyjamas, and b) was pulling his son along who appeared to be bleeding.

"That bastard's partner broke into my house," Henry raged to her as she took the first aid kit from Shawn's trembling hands and proceeded to dap at the cut with anti-septic wipes. "He cut Shawn – again! Exactly where he did last time. I don't care what you need; my son is not being part of this case."

Karen looked into his eyes and saw how serious he was being. But she still wanted answers first, "Calm down. First things first; you say he broke in?"

"I woke up 'cause my shoulder started hurting," Shawn told her, wincing occasionally as she dabbed. "I thought I heard something, and saw the guy outside in the bushes. That's it."

"And he cut you?" She asked, concerned that she couldn't get the bleeding to stop. However, Henry took over and she saw with amazement how gentle he was being with their resident psychic.

"Yeah. Well, we guess so." Shawn replied to her question, looking tired, but nowhere near as exhausted as he'd looked the previous afternoon.

"I'll post some officers outside your father's house and your office," she told him. "Now Ken Wilson –"

"Who?" Shawn asked, confused.

"Volpe's partner." Henry confirmed, taping a bandage to Shawn's shoulder.

"Wilson may still be trying to get back at your father for putting Volpe in prison," the Chief continued, "and he could be working with Volpe still. I _told _you to be careful."

"In all fairness, Chief – you didn't tell me to be careful at my own father's house. Now, fair enough we don't have the steadiest relationship; but I didn't think I'd have to be on the watch for –"

Shawn was stopped in his rambling when Lassiter burst through the door of the Chief's office.

"Chief, I think we've got something –" He paused, seeing for the first time Shawn sat against the desk, nursing a bandaged shoulder and wearing a bloodstained shirt. "What happened?"

"Aw, Lassie – you sound so caring!" Shawn trilled happily. "Do you want to go beat up the man who did it?"

"Detective; what've you got?" The Chief asked, only glaring at Shawn and not giving him a reprimand; feeling he'd been through enough in that night.

He managed to pull his eyes away from Shawn to talk to her, "O'Hara got a tip about a man matching Wilson's description driving away in a dark van. There's a BOLO out on the plates."

The Chief nodded, "Good work, Detective," she turned to Henry. "Seems someone in your neighbourhood has a good eye, Henry." She told him.

Lassiter stared, before connecting the dots, "Wilson was…" The Chief nodded. "Wilson stabbed…?" Henry nodded, and did a quick check, satisfied that the cut was no longer bleeding. "Son of a bitch."

Shawn beamed, "Lassie, here was me thinking you never cared!"

"It's not about caring, Spencer – there's a bet around the station over who would stab you first. You know how much the stakes are on me doing it first?"

Shawn could see straight through the lie and grinned at him, "Whatever you say, Detective." He grinned at Lassiter before slowly sliding down the desk, having to be quickly propped up by his dad.

"I think it's time we went back home." Henry said, hooking his arm around Shawn in an attempt to keep him upright.

"I'll send some officers to watch overnight." Karen promised him, leaving the office.

"Is he okay?" Lassiter asked grouchly.

"Too much excitement, sleeping pills and not a lot of actual sleep, Lassiter; he'll be fine." Henry replied gruffly.

He'd catch this bastard even if he died doing it.

**So, this turned out completely different to what I was planning on doing XD But if you all stay with me, I'll make sure there's more action and whump ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys :) Cheers for the reviews :) Sorry about it taking so long; I'm sure you're used to it by now from me . Sorry :S**

_Last Chapter:_

_"Is he okay?" Lassiter asked grouchly._

_"Too much excitement, sleeping pills and not a lot of actual sleep, Lassiter; he'll be fine." Henry replied gruffly._

_He'd catch this bastard even if he died doing it._

Chapter 3

Shawn opened his eyes to see sunlight streaming in from his windows. Apparently slight trauma and blood loss was good for a man if he wanted sleep.

He turned over in his bed to find himself face to face with... Ferris Bueller?

He leapt out of his bed, panicking slightly and wondering just how much blood he had lost, but then his heart rate slowly got back to normal when his eyes focussed and he saw it was one of his old posters. Why his dad had never done anything to his old room was beyond him. Maybe he just never wanted to go in there. Or maybe he hoped his son would stay more often?

Just as Shawn was pondering the ethics of his dad's clean out of the house, he winced as he felt a sharp pain flare up his shoulder. He took off the pyjama top he was wearing - _had his dad changed his clothes when he was passed out last night? _- and gazed at the bandage with some fascination. Dark stains had seeped to the outer layer of the white material, but it looked like it had stopped bleeding.

Shower. He suddenly thought. A shower would be the most appreciated thing on earth right now, except...

He sniffed deeply on his way out of his room and gazed around - was that _pancakes?_

His dad never made pancakes. Ever. Except that one time Shawn had been playing football at school, and the quarterback on the opposing team _really _didn't like him, which resulted in him having to stay inside for a few weeks so he didn't tear the stitches of his new wound on his stomach.

His dad had never been so glad to leave for work after a few days spent alone with his son, who was quickly coming down with cabin fever.

Shawn snorted at this memory and locked the bathroom door, slowly peeling the bandage off his wound.

It didn't look as bad as he'd feared. There was no sign of infection, and it had been quite shallow compared to the first time it had happened. Warm water might do it the world of good.

He stepped into the shower, sighing happily as the water splashed over him, wincing as his shoulder gave a pathetic wail of protest.

He kept his eyes away from the plughole, where the pink water sliding down from his shoulder was going.

* * *

"Shawn, I didn't hear you get up." Henry sounded and looked surprised as he saw his son come into the kitchen. Shawn had just pulled on some jeans and an old baggy top, hoping his father wouldn't notice the fact his bandage was gone.

"Dad, please tell me that I did smell pancakes," Shawn begged his dad. "The shower woke me up, so I can't blame it on being tired - "

"How's your shoulder?" Henry asked, reaching into a cabinet for the first aid kit. There were many things you could say about the relationship between him and his son, but you couldn't dispute the fact that Henry worried about Shawn, and became a slight mother-hen if his son was injured.

"Fine, Dad, it doesn't look - " he sighed as Henry didn't even listen to him and exposed the cut, looking at it for himself and grabbing another bandage to put round it. "I thought you were supposed to let these things get fresh air!" Shawn complained, before whipping round in his chair (Earning a wince from the pains of his shoulder and a glare from his dad) as he heard someone else walk into the room.

"Mr Spencer, I had no idea that - Shawn?" Gus looked pleased that his friend wasn't... well; dead. He tended to over-worry, and the pancakes were really to soothe his nerves - if only so Henry didn't have to listen to him panic.

"Hey, Buddy," Shawn said happily. "Did you know I have a Ferris Bueller poster? I don't even remember getting it. What happened to my _Back to the Future _poster?"

"I won it in a bet, when you said we could turn your dad's truck into a time machine." Gus looked smug at this memory and put his plate down by the sink.

"Oh come on, dude, of course it didn't work - it was a truck, not a DeLorean!"

"You did something to my truck?" Henry asked, dangerously, rolling Shawn's sleeve back down and putting the first aid kit away.

"Ah..." Shawn's eyes flicked nervously from his dad to Gus. "No, Gus told me it wasn't possible, so we gave up and he won the bet. Anyway - " he said, quickly changed subject, "have the police got any leads about Volpe and Wilson?"

"The guys they sent back home home to watch you last night didn't see anything else suspicious," Gus informed him, slapping his hand as Shawn tried to take one of his pancakes. "The chief called me this morning to fill me in, and said we have to get down to the station."

Shawn beamed happily and quickly stole from Gus' plate, victoriously stuffing the pancake in his mouth as Gus hadn't been fast enough to stop him. "Dad, I'll see you later; ooh, mind showing me the old case file? I know you keep them all in the attic."

"Shawn - you are _not _getting involved in this case; you know how dangerous this is; Volpe doesn't care about killing, and Wilson clearly doesn't care about being caught!"

Dad that's..." Shawn paused, thoughts flying in and out of his head in seconds. "Dad, you're brilliant!" He bounced out of his chair and left the room.

"Gus, keep and eye on him," Henry sighed. "Don't let him do anything stupid."

Gus snorted.

* * *

"Shawn, how are you?" Juliet asked worriedly, putting down the files she was carrying onto her desk as she saw him walk by.

"I'm fine, Jules - is the chief in her office?" He motioned towards the office, already walking towards it.

"No, she's collecting the old case files from the archives." Juliet informed him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"But I have very important psychic feelings to report!" He whined, before cheering up and latching onto the detective walking past, trying to appear unnoticeable. "Never mind! I'll report to Lassie!"

The head detective scowled and shook his arm free of psychic. "Spencer; we are _too busy _for this. Volpe may have struck again, and thanks to you, we now have to try and figure out why his partner stuck around."

"That's what my psychic feelings are trying to tell you!" Shawn said excitedly. "I had a very odd vision this morning when I was in the shower," he winked at Juliet, who blushed. "I saw a fish swimming around, with Wilson's face; away from a shark with Volpe's face that was in a yellow submarine; but that's not here nor there - the Wilson fish was scarlet, and it was... long and boring."

Right." Lassiter said, a bored tone to his words.

"A red fish?" Juliet confirmed, trying to find the meaning.

"Was it a herring?" Gus chipped in, glaring at Shawn for having spilt smoothie in his car and left before he could berate him properly.

"Gus, you're brilliant!" Shawn praised him. "Wilson is just a red herring! Think about it; why would these guys - one of whom was only sent down for one murder out of a possible 15 - start killing again, only to have themselves caught because someone in my dad's neighbourhood saw the van and Wilson?"

"So, what you think Wilson was luring us away from Volpe?" Lassiter asked, not believing Shawn's 'vision' but what he was saying made sense.

"Right - and don't you think those were some desperate measures?" Shawn continued. "Breaking into my dad's house to cut me?"

"Why would he get so desperate?" Gus asked, his anger with Shawn dissipating.

"Maybe we got close?" Juliet suggested.

"Yeah, maybe we got _too _close," Carlton corrected, immediately rushing back to his desk to open the files that stated who they had questioned and where.

"Thanks, Shawn," Juliet said, smiling, before helping Lassiter go through the files.

"Now look at that, Gus - see how happy we made them?" Shawn beamed at him.

"Shawn; I am under strict instructions from your dad to make sure you don't do anything stupid." Gus told him.

"Well that's great, buddy; but I'm not doing anything stupid." Shawn countered,

"Shawn you're getting involved. No means no - did you never see those posters?"

"Dude, they were about rape," Shawn told him, confused. "And, I only told them about my psychic vibrations. I'm not doing any legwork - I'm barely doing arm work."

Gus glared at Shawn but both of them turned when they heard Lassiter give a victorious shout. "One of the guys we interviewed, Doug Carter has a van matching the plates Wilson drove away with - he might be a friend and let Wilson borrow his van."

"Good thinking, Detective!" Shawn cried out, grinning. With Lassiter and Juliet following his red-herring hunch, he could follow up on what he could remember from the previous case - surely they had checked Volpe's factory? It had been derelict for years since his arrest, but his dad had always suspected that was where he did most of the planning. They had never been able to get a warrent for it, however.

But Shawn could easily snoop around in there.

"Gus, I'm going to tidy that smoothie up I spilt," he told his friend. "Give me the keys."

Gus; happy that his friend was apparently taking some responsibility - however slight - threw him the keys. He wanted to talk to the cheif about the original case.

* * *

Shawn felt guilty about taking his friend's car to look around a derelict factory and not telling him, but if he had; he would get a lecture from both Gus and his dad, so he thought he might as well go alone.

It wouldn't be one of the smartest decisions he'd ever made.

**Guys, I'm sorry this chapter is boring; as well as the wait . But it's like, the calm before the storm :P Review? :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry the last chapter was so short and dull, so I'm hoping angst, whump and flashbacks abound will make you feel better ;)**

_Last Chapter:_

_Shawn felt guilty about taking his friend's car to look around a derelict factory and not telling him, but if he had; he would get a lecture from both Gus and his dad, so he thought he might as well go alone._

_It wouldn't be one of the smartest decisions he'd ever made._

Chapter 4

Shawn could hear and feel the broken glass crunch beneath his feet as he wandered around the factory. Several windows had been smashed - by vandals or something else he didn't know, but it let just enough light in so that he could see. The electrics had long since stopped working since Volpe had gone to prison. Shawn paused near a wall - the bricks were different colours to those surrounding them.

He excitedly looked around, trying to find something to prise some of the bricks off with. When Volpe was arrested, his partner may have tried to clean up in the factory; which apparently involved bricking over something. He finally laid eyes on an old piece of pipe and went down to pick it up, groaning with the weight and feeling the strain on his shoulder wound. He managed to pick it up and whirled around to the wall, pulling back before swinging the pipe with everything he could muster.

There was an ear-splitting crash as he did this, and to his disappointment there was just a crack in the wall. His hopes of it exploding like in the movies dashed, he decided to call Lassie and see if maybe he could bring a fire truck or something. And maybe they would let him run the siren!

He grinned at his small fantasy as he pulled his cell out of his pocket.

"Ah-ah-ah, Shawny!" Shawn looked up as Wilson grinned at him, before easily picking up Shawn's discarded pipe and cracking it against the side of his head. Shawn's cell clattered on the floor as he collapsed, blood trickling from a large gash on the side of his head, made from a snapped part of the pipe.

Wilson knelt so he could look into Shawn's eyes. The psychic was woozy and knew he wouldn't be able to keep his consciousness for very long.

"Ah, Shawny," Wilson sighed, beaming. "It's so nice to see you again. How's the shoulder? I admit it may have been a bit unfair, what with you being asleep at the time, but I couldn't help it! Hey!" His tone changed to anger as Shawn tried to drag himself away to get his phone. "Oh no you don't, Shawny!" He stood up and sauntered over to where Shawn had been reaching out and stood on Shawn's hands and fingers, making sure to excert a large amount of force.

He waited until he heard a satisfying crunching sound and Shawn cried out in pain, before removing his boot.

"What's wrong, Shawny?" He asked in a tender voice. "No one coming to help this time? Daddy not on his way?"

"Dad..." Shawn mumbled dizzily, before finally succumbing to unconsciousness.

* * *

_"Shawn, honey - help your old mother; will you take the garbage out please?" Shawn pouted at Madeline, but he could never deny his mother anything, especially when she smiled at him and used a tone to suggest he might get extra ice cream if he did this._

_"Fine, but I want - " his demand was quickly silenced by the look he got off his mother, and nodded, picking up the bag._

_"Thank you, Goose." She smiled at him and he couldn't help smiling back._

_He made his way out to the garden. Why was their bin all the way out at the back? The Gusters' had theirs just next to the door. So lost in a fantasy where he could put out the trash whilst still watching TV he didn't hear the rustling in the bushes as he got to the end of the garden, next to the fence._

_Just as he put the lid on top of the bin with a **clang**, he went to turn but jumped when a hand was on his shoulder._

_"You Henry Spencer's kid?" Shawn looked up to see a man with a passive expression on his face. He started shaking and wasn't sure whether he should answer. However, the man just smiled. "Say hi to your dad from Ken Wilson."_

_Shawn was about to open his mouth, when a fiery pain ran along his collar bone and down his shoulder blade. The hand holding him there disappeared and Shawn felt safe enough to scream. It was the loudest noise he'd ever made, and his sobbing soon joined in. He clutched at his shoulder in agony, not realising it was hurting it more._

_"Shawn?" His dad had heard his scream from the other side of the house and had sprinted through to the back garden. Madeline quickly followed; Henry's rules be damned. _

_Henry quickly pulled up as he saw the state of his son's shoulder. "Oh, pal, oh, Shawn - here, okay, it's not that bad, it's alright, okay, Shawny, alright..." He started babbling, pulling his son into a gentle hug as Madeline ran back to the house to call an ambulance. Henry continued whispering words of comfort as he swept the garden with a gaze when he realised they could all still be in danger._

_"Alright, buddy - we're going to go back inside now, okay?" Shawn didn't respond and Henry felt a cold chill go all through him. "Shawn?" He gave his son a small shake and was relieved to hear a small moan. __"It's alright, Shawny - I promise, here we go, okay?" He slowly stood up and carried Shawn back inside, depositing the small boy on the couch. "Keep pressure on his shoulder." He ordered his wife, as he turned to go back outside, gun drawn._

_"Henry, what are you doing?" Madeline called, easing a towel onto Shawn's shoulder and pressing it on, heart breaking as Shawn continued to cry from the pain._

_"That bastard could still be out there," Henry said, jaw tight._

_"Language," Madeline said softly, trying to ease a smile onto her face to keep Shawn calm._

_"Right. Sorry, honey." Henry bent down to gently stroke Shawn's hair._

_"It **hurts**, Daddy." Shawn sobbed, wanting to clutch Henry's hand._

_"I know, pal, I know - amublance'll be here soon, alright? Stay with Mom for a second while I check out the back, okay?"_

_"Ken Wilson." Shawn cried softly just before Henry left. "He said to tell you he said hi."_

* * *

Shawn mumbled something unintelligible as he slowly came round. His head felt like someone was using it as a substitute to bongos.

"Ah, is my little Spencer awake?" Shawn managed to peel open his eyelids and watched as Wilson paced back and forth in front of him.

"What do - do you w-want, Wils-son?" He mumbled, wishing he could curl up in a corner somewhere. He was stopped by the ropes lashing him to a chair. A very uncomfortable chair, at that. "Anyone ever - ever t-tell you that you - you suck at - at being a h-host?"

"Well I'm glad I didn't knock that smart-ass outta you," Wilson teased. "I'll just have to try harder. Tell me, Shawny - ever heard of waterboarding?"

"I l-left my b-body board at - at home." Shawn spat out, all too aware of what waterboarding was.

"You know your Dad's old friend - Mr Volpe?" Wilson asked conversationally, untying Shawn. The blow to his head had made it impossible for him to try and make much of an escape attempt. He just succeeded in falling onto his knees and attempting an odd kneeling shuffle. "I guess you know my cutting of you all those years ago was because I was angry at your dad - it was never about _you_, Shawn."

"I'm g-glad to hear it." Shawn ground out, eyes sqeezing closed as he felt himself being dragged over to another patch of floor, and had his arms and legs pulled out from his nice and safe fetal position while he was roped down to the floor.

"See, I thought that hurting you was enough; your dad seemed pretty upset. But when Oliver got out, we thought maybe we should plan something a bit... worse." He tugged at Shawn's bonds to be sure they held tight and smiled at him as he brought a piece of cloth over Shawn's face. "Don't worry, I'm not going to suffocate you - that wouldn't be much fun. See, Shawny - we thought as a fitting tribute to Oliver's victims, we would kill _you _the same ways. Of course," he laughed lightly, grabbing a can by his side, "we could only kill you _once_, so we thought we could _slowly _kill you in _every _way! Sounds fun, right?"

He stood above Shawn and held the can at a slight angle, letting the water slowly land on Shawn's face. "Now, this is for the 4 that were drowned. Let's see... that leaves 3 for electrocution, we've had the 2 stabbings, we need the 2 shootings and one beating. Hmm," he mused, pouring the water faster. "Perhaps I'll let the head be the beating. It depends how I feel." He laughed and kept pouring.

Shawn wanted to thrash, try and get out of the ocean - oh. He wasn't even drowning. He tried to stay calm, but panic was quickly rising. He had heard Wilson's tally of the victims and was perversly glad he had already been stabbed -well, it was a cut on his shoulder, but he didn't care about definitions right now - but he still had the other tortures to get through first. Then who knew what Wilson would do when he finished?

He tried to squeeze his eyes tighter, feeling like all the water was quickly going to his lungs, even though he wasn't under any. He struggled harder, the adrenaline making up for his head wound. He started to choke, and sucked in the cloth he had around his face. There was a slight moment of relief when it appeared Wilson had stopped pouring, but then it started again, harder than ever.

_Please, _he begged as he started choking, _please someone come soon..._

* * *

"I will _kill _you, Shawn!" Gus promised, stalking backwards and forwards through the parking lot as if Shawn was just hiding his car. He wasn't even answering his cell. Where would he have gone?

"Gus!" He turned to see Jules half running/half walking towards him. "Shawn's tip about the red herring was right - Doug Carter confessed to lending Wilson his van. He doesn't know where he is now, but he said that Wilson mentioned going back to his and Volpe's old 'hangout'."

"Do you know where that is?" Gus asked, momentarily forgetting about his car.

"Not yet; we sent an officer over to a derelict factory Volpe used to own, but he hasn't called in anything suspicious. So we're going over bank statements, credit cards - anything that says they might have bought something together. Oh, and myself and Lassiter are about to go talk to some of their old associates - see whether they know where it could be. Oh," she paused, remembering something. "Where's Shawn?"

"You tell me," Gus said, his anger back in a flash. "He took my car. I have no idea where he's gone. That's a _company car_!"

Juliet smiled in sympathy before hurrying to follow Lassiter, who just exited the building. "I'm sure he's fine, Gus. He might have gone back home - or maybe he wanted another smoothie?"

Gus sighed. That's all he needed. For Shawn to make more mess in his car.

* * *

"Wakey, wakey, Spencer Jr!" Shawn groaned, but felt an odd relief at being once again tied to a chair. At least he wasn't 'drowning' anymore. "So, I've made myself a schedule. At 6pm, Oliver's coming and then we're gonna hop a plane and leave for Mexico!" He pronounced it in the mock style of the country, 'Me-hee-ko'.

"You really don't think you're going to get away with that, do you?" Shawn rasped, feeling horribly cliche asking it. "Yours and Volpe's faces'll be all over the news."

"Not if we create a hostage situation," Wilson grinned. "They'll have to meet our demands. Then we can leave you for dead and jump on our brand new jet."

"What makes you think they'll find you in time to do that?" Shawn asked, trying to forget about the whole, 'being left for dead' thing.

Wilson grinned. "We got ourselves a visitor." He moved so Shawn could look past him. He groaned. A police officer of the SBPD was tied opposite him, his face beaten into an unrecognisable pulp. "He'll call them on his radio at around half 5."

"No - I won't." The officer's voice was weak but he seemed stubborn.

"Look at that, Ken - no one's listening to you." Shawn mocked, quickly stopping as he saw Wilson pull the taser from the cop's uniform.

"You don't want to make me angry, do you, Shawny?" He asked. "Otherwise I might have to do this - " he flicked it on and tasered Shawn's arm. It started to twitch involuntarily and he had to fight to stop himself crying out.

"Leave him... alone..." the cop ordered, fighting to keep his breath from the obvious beating he had been given whilst Shawn was recovering from his 'drowning'.

"You know, I'm tired of you arguing!" Wilson turned to face him. Shawn held his breath, but closed his eyes and winced as he heard the faceless cop tasered. Again. And again. Suddenly it stopped. Shawn braved the sight and looked up, wishing he hadn't.

It was as if the man had been given the electric chair. If Shawn thought his face was unrecognisable before, it was practically sliding off his skull now. "What did you do to him?" Shawn whispered hoarsely.

Wilson grinned as he untied the dead man, shifting so he was dragging the corpse away. "I added a bit more than the gentle tasering I gave you." Shawn saw a cut wire next to the chair and realised Wilson had been swapping between that and the taser, aiming for his face.

He shuddered and waited for Wilson to drag their 'vistor' away before he let tears roll down his face.

He really didn't think he would get out of this one.

* * *

_"It **hurts**, Daddy." Shawn sobbed, and Henry wanted nothing more than to clutch at his hand and never let go._

_"I know, pal, I know - amublance'll be here soon, alright? Stay with Mom for a second while I check out the back, okay?"_

_"Ken Wilson." Shawn cried softly just before Henry left. "He said to tell you he said hi."_

_Henry paused as he got to the door. Volpe's partner? He knew the man was sadistic, but he didn't think he would go into his back garden and cut a small boy. He quickly radioed it in and before even the ambulance arrived, two squad cars had pulled up and were searching the garden._

_"Henry!" He glanced over and saw Madeline talking to the paramedics who had arrived moments after he came back in from the garden. She couldn't keep a hold of Shawn, who was trying to wriggle free, yelping every time it hurt his shoulder, still crying._

_"Hey, Shawn - stop moving, okay, pal?" The only response he got was sobbing, so he just took hold of his son and lifted him up, holding him as Shawn buried his face in his shoulder, clutching at his sleeve with the arm not covered in blood. "Alright, that's better - we need to go to hospital now, buddy, alright?"_

_"You're coming too, right?" Shawn begged, breath hitching._

_Henry paused. He looked back at the officers now doing a quick sweep of the house and talking to neighbours. They needed the help. He was going to tell Shawn as much when he looked at his son's teary eyes._

_"Of course I am, Shawny."_

* * *

Henry rubbed at his forehead. Now his old case was back he kept having... not nightmares as such - more like flashbacks. He would always remember Shawn's cries of terror, his and Madeline's worry when they were told the hospital wanted to keep him overnight.

Then he remembered blaming Shawn afterwards. Getting a note from Wilson in the mail that they couldn't trace. It just said; _Sorry about Shawny. Try and get us again - we'll kill him. Wilson._

That was also the last time he'd called his son 'Shawny'.

"Mr Spencer!" Henry saw Gus walk in. "Have you seen Shawn?"

"Not since this morning. Why?" He asked, a pit of worry growing slightly in his stomach.

"He took my car. I don't know where he's gone." Gus' cell rang and he took it out, giving Henry and apologetic look as he answered. "Hello. Juliet? Oh my god! Uh, no I still haven't found him. No. Oh-okay," he paused, eyes flicking towards Henry. "Yeah, I'm here now. Yeah. Alright. Okay, bye."

"What?" Henry asked warily.

"Juliet said they found a police car with an SBPD officer inside it. He's dead. It looked like he was tortured. They're coming to pick us both up to go to the station."

"Gus, I'm not following," Henry stopped him. "Why do both of us need to go? I know how awful it is to find a dead cop, but..."

"He went to check out the old warehouse, the one Volpe had. And since you worked the old case they want you in too, I guess."

Henry looked unconvinced by this but didn't argue as Juliet, Lassiter and Chief Vick all walked in. "Henry, I'm sorry we just barged in, but - "

"Karen, why are going down the station - what's all this about?"

Karen shuffled slightly where she stood and looked uncomfortable. "The officer who found the squad car followed the trail it had taken from the warehouse. They found Mr Guster's car outside it."

Gus' mouth fell open and Henry's eyes narrowed.

**Yay, a longer chapter for y'all :D I would've kept writing til the end tbh, but whenever I do that it starts off alright but eventually tails off into dialogue and nothing else - which is how this was going XD Review? :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Aw, thanks for all the reviews guys, it means a lot, and I can tell you all like the whump - even if you claim that I'm evil ;) **

_Last Chapter:_

_Karen shuffled slightly where she stood and looked uncomfortable. "The officer who found the squad car followed the trail it had taken from the warehouse. They found Mr Guster's car outside it."_

_Gus' mouth fell open and Henry's eyes narrowed._

Chapter 5

"That stupid kid!" Henry raged as he sat in the squad car next to Gus. Buzz - an officer he'd never really gotten aquainted with, but by Shawn's accounts was a good cop - was driving. He seemed nervous, and tended to flinch whenever Henry spoke. Although that could have been because he was shouting.

"Mr Spencer, I agree Shawn was being stupid, but what if he's..." Gus stopped talking, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He'd heard Juliet and Lassiter talking before both he and Henry were ushered into the squad car to be taken back to the station. The dead police officer was a newbie, he'd only been working at the SBPD for a few weeks. They'd had to identify him with his dental records. His face was a mess and his fingers had each been cut off. It made Gus sick to think that this may be where his friend was.

Suddenly, the radio in the car flickered into life, asking for more units to respond to the warehouse.

Buzz looked back into the car uneasily. "Uh, guys, I should probably go, so if I just drop you off - "

"Buzz you're taking us with you." Gus told him.

"Okay."

* * *

"Don't worry, Shawny, I took care of our visitor," Wilson told him happily. Shawn had used the time he'd been gone to try and pull at the bonds restricting him to the chair. He'd made a little headway, but his wrists were stinging and his shoulder felt like it was coming off. His head was still fuzzy from the hit he had received earlier, and he knew he had concussion. The deprivation of oxygen from the waterboarding hadn't helped, and he really felt like passing out.

"So, the tasering wasn't as good as I anticipated. That's why I have _this..._" Saying that, he put down something on the floor and grinned brightly at Shawn, who closed his eyes slowly when he saw it.

_I'm actually dead._

* * *

Buzz slowed the car as they came across the abandoned squad car. The body had been removed, and they were about to tow it away.

"Why are they towing it?" Buzz asked the officer who was overseeing it.

"No battery," he said, shrugging as he wrote something down. "Battery and jump leads are both missing. Guess whoever put it here took them out after he was done."

"What would he need them for?" Buzz asked, confused.

"Your guess is as good as mine," the officer said. "But I'll tell you this - the amount of electrical burns that guy had? I wouldn't be surprised if the sicko upped it and decided a car battery was better for whatever he was planning."

It was at that moment Gus threw up just outside of the car, and Henry's hands gripped his seatbelt so hard Buzz thought it would break.

* * *

"So, Shawny - how was that for you?" Wilson asked, almost like a first time lover. He genuinely wanted to know how he did.

Shawn stared up at him with blurred vision. He'd already vomited several times before and after - he was about to during but it was then the voltage was upped slightly and he had been in danger of choking on it. His whole body ached, and Wilson had taken the courtesy to only shock him on the torso and his uninjured arm. Well, it had been uninjured. Now there was a fantastic array of bruising and burns.

"I think... you n-need to w-work on being more - more gentle... W-Wilson..." Shawn managed to gasp, closing his eyes as Wilson finally put down the car battery and leads.

Wilson threw back his head and laughed. "You know, Shawny - I think I'm really gonna miss you. Honestly. I'm sorry Oliver won't be able to get to know you as well as I have."

"And why's - " Shawn winced as Wilson prodded one of the burns, "why's that?"

"Well I don't think you'll be in any fit state to talk to him when he gets here," Wilson turned to dig something out of a bag by his feet. "Which reminds me - we need to get back on topic. Now, which deaths haven't we had? I'm not sure cutting you counted as a stabbing. But hey, I'm a generous person, let's leave it there. We had that delightful drowning, your _shockingly _good electrocution. What else...?" Wilson pretended to ponder as he brought a gun out. "Oh of course..."

He cocked the gun before pointing it at Shawn, seemingly deciding where exactly to shoot.

"Any ideas, kiddo?"

"How about... that large - large hole just und-underneath your nose..." Shawn suggested. "You know - the one that - that keeps moving and making-making noise..."

Wilson chuckled. "I do love you sometimes, Shawny-boy."

He fired the gun directly at Shawn's leg, eliciting a cry of pain. Shawn gasped in shock as he felt the bullet rip through his leg - fortunately then lodging in the chair leg, which meant it had gone clean through. Still, that was a small mercy, as he could feel his trouser leg getting wet and warm with his own blood, and the pain was nearly as bad as the shocks he had received. Or was it worse? His head was swimming and he _really _hoped he'd pass out soon.

"Hey come on now, Shawny - what was it your Dad was saying to you when I cut you the first time? It's alright, pal, it'll be okay, oh, Shawny..." Wilson continued with his mocking tone, before glancing at his watch. "So I reckon the cops find my surprise. They're gonna come here soon, I bet. Right on time too - Oliver'll be here in about half an hour. Don't worry, though," he leered at Shawn. "He knows the back way in."

"And if the police are coming here..." Shawn said slowly, "they'll find you... and me. Before Oliver comes."

"Not if we use our little hiding place." Wilson grinned, tugging Shawn out of the chair by his collar, bonds long since forgotten by both. Shawn had lost his optimism of escape quite a while ago.

* * *

"What were you thinking, Officer?" Lassiter hissed at Buzz. "Bringing two civilians to the crime scene is bad enough, but two who have personal links to the case?"

"To be fair, Lassiter," Gus chipped in, "you all have personal links to the case. Shawn's one of you." He had tried to remain calm the rest of the ride over, and thought he was managing quite well.

Lassie, on the other hand, looked enraged. "Spencer is not 'one of us'. He is a _consultant. _He's not a cop."

"Lassiter we are going in there to help search," Henry said in his no nonsense voice that Gus had heard a lot around Shawn when they were young. "It's just more man power."

The reason more units had been requested was because the warehouse was so vast they needed as many officers as possible. Juliet was already pointing officers in different directions, and the Chief was was also there. Everyone was wearing bullet-proof vests, which made Gus nervous.

"Fine, you can help," Lassiter conceded. "But wear a vest." he growled before walking away to help with the search. Even just thinking this made him feel mildly ill, but he knew that if he wasn't allowed to go in and search for Spencer if he was in trouble, he would fight tooth and nail to get in there.

* * *

"Now isn't this nice, Shawny? Very cosy, don't you think?" Wilson asked, stretching on an old armchair in the dank room they were in. Apparently there were several bricked up rooms around the warehouse, and ways into each one that Wilson knew explicitly. Shawn could also tell they were underneath the factory, as he was made to stumble down some stairs with his leg sending unbearable pains up and down every time he moved it.

At least he was allowed to sit down. He was now sat on the floor, back leant against a wall.

"No offence, Wilson," Shawn said, not being able to stop his mouth running off without him. "But you would _suck _as an interior decorator."

"Shawny, I've been trying to be nice," Shawn snorted at that. "But if you don't stop being such a smart-ass, I'll be forced to rethink some of these deaths. I discounted stabbing, right?"

Shawn's eyes grew wide and he decided maybe it would be best to shut up every once in a while. "Yeah that's what I thought." Wilson said smugly, idly playing with the knife he had just taken out of his boot.

Shawn froze as he heard what sounded like footsteps above them. "Oh don't worry about that," Wilson told him. "They won't be able to find us until I want them to."

"That's..." Shawn's voice was hoarse. "That's the cops?"

"I guess." Wilson shrugged. That was when Shawn was truly frightened. This guy didn't care. He really didn't. Sure, he'd been terrified by the amount of torture he'd had to face, but Shawn thought that a guy who wouldn't care if the cops were closing in wouldn't care what happened to his bargaining chip of a hostage.

Maybe he could get some sort of message to some above. Shawn coughed, and Wilson didn't react, so he did it again, as loud as he dared. He started to move, gently picking up some old brick with his sore fingers and tapping it on the side of the wall.

"I see what you're doing, Shawny-boy," Wilson drawled, standing up and creeping towards him. If he wasn't moving normally, Shawn thought, then maybe if he made enough noise he could be heard. "And I don't like it. Don't you want to wait to see Oliver? I'm sure he'd like to meet the son of his arresting officer." At this, he again stood on Shawn's already bruised hands, his fingers already starting to swell. With a gasp, Shawn wondered if he made a noise in response to the torture, they'd find him faster?

Wilson beamed at him. "I'm glad to see you see my side of things," in response to this, Shawn picked up the brick and threw it at his captor, smiling as it made a good _thunk _against his head.

"You don't get it, do you, Spencer?" Wilson yelled, his anger making it so that he was no longer trying to stay quiet. He whirled around, and Shawn realised what he had done would cost him greatly.

* * *

"There are two chairs here," Lassiter said, motioning Juliet over. "Both have burn marks in them."

Juliet knelt to examine one. "This one has blood on it," she said worriedly. "There's a bullet lodged in the leg."

"The officer in the car hadn't been shot," Lassiter said softly.

"I've already requested paramedics," Juliet told him. "They're stationed outside, just in case..."

Lassiter nodded numbly and continued his search. There was a large sheet of metal on the floor that was wet, a bucket and cloth next to it, as well as chains. Hoping that someone had simply been cleaning, Carlton pressed on, stopping as he heard something.

"O'Hara!" He half whispered to his partner. He motioned for her to be quiet and they both stopped still, listening.

There was a clang and a shout, an angry one though, not an injured one. A definite struggle was taking place, and both detectives listened, realising it was coming from below them.

"Are there any stairs here?" Lassiter asked, pacing angrily, like a dog in a cage.

"There are some for the maintenance entrance. But they were bricked up years ago." Juliet informed him, glancing down at the plan of the building she had in front of her. They were both silent again, and could hear the thuds and crashes.

"Something is happening, and we are going to - " Lassiter paused in what he was saying as a scream ripped throughout the room. It was in pain. Desperately.

It was definitely Shawn's scream.

* * *

"You like that, Shawny-boy? Yeah?" Wilson continued his assault on Shawn, laughing as he kicked him on the gunshot wound. Shawn couldn't help it and let out a scream, tears coming to his eyes as he tried to get away, suddenly not caring about the police upstairs. What would they do? Hear him and finally come down in about 3 hours with a SWAT team?

He tried his best to curl up from the violent beating, but was shocked when Wilson suddenly stopped. "Oliver! You got here safely then?"

"Obviously." Volpe stepped down the stairs from where he'd been watching the attack from the shadows for about five minutes. He grinned as he saw the state Shawn was in. He didn't look like his father, but it would do - anything relating to Henry Spencer made him angry. His killing earlier in the week was just to get the police out and aware of him again, so they would get his final message before he disappeared to Mexico.

"You th-think you're jus' gonna w-waltz outta here with all the cops 'round?" Shawn slurred, trying to find one piece of his body that didn't hurt. He was coming up empty.

"Oh, boy I _know _I am. I just got down here without being seen, we can both get out."

"I thought were going to use him as a hostage?" Wilson frowned, obviously eager to subject him to more torment.

Volpe shook his head. "We don't have time. I've already got us a ride. Let's go."

"That's it?" Wilson questioned, clearly disappointed.

"Well, I have time to do one more thing." Oliver grinned, reaching into his pocket.

"I already did the drowning, electrocution, beating, shooting and stabbing." Wilson informed him, his fingers twitching as he eagerly wanted to get back into the 'beating' part.

"Well, I don't see much evidence of the stabbing." Volpe explained, and plunged his knife into Shawn's arm - the one covered in electrical burns. He stood back in a pleased way as Shawn cried out again, in pitiful despair.

"Freeze, SBPD!"

Both Volpe and Wilson turned to find at least a dozen guns pointed at them. Both put their arms up slowly in defeat, but Wilson flew into a rage, turning back to kick Shawn as hard as he could in the stomach. An orchestra of gunshots rang out in the small room and Wilson was on the floor next to Shawn, dead before he hit the ground.

Volpe laughed. "He was a bit rubbish anyway. The torture was nowhere near as good as what I could have done."

Carlton stormed towards him, his face livid. His had been the first gun to fire, and - not that he knew it - the one to hit the man in the head. He grabbed Volpe and turned him making sure the handcuffs were too tight, and threw him to the side of the room. "You touch any of ours again, and we will make sure you get the death penalty."

"Detective." Karen said this softly, not caring about the threat, but she was stood at the top of the stairs, a nervous Henry and Gus stood behind her.

"Right, Chief." Lassiter hauled him out, pushing him away when he attempted to speak to Henry.

"I hope your son doesn't die before you see him, Spencer - truly!" He cackled all the way to the squad car.

"Karen - if you don't let me down there..." Henry said menacingly, pushing past her anway.

"I'll go show the paramedics where to go." Gus said hurriedly. He didn't think he'd be able to look and see what those animals had done to his best friend.

* * *

Shawn curled himself even tighter as Wilson had started to kick him, and jumped when he heard the gunshots. He felt the body fall beside him, and shuddered as he could feel Wilson's corpse touch his back slightly.

There was movement around the room, people rushing. Someone tried to get him to look at them, assess his injuried - it may have been Jules - but he yelped when they touched him and tried to move away.

"Shawn?" That voice sounded safe. He didn't feel like they would hurt him. It was familiar - a whole hospital file of injuries full of soothing words, a gentle hand that usually wasn't resting on his back, rubbing calming circles.

"Dad?" He whispered, his voice cracking as he finally opened his eyes. His dad's face swam into focus. The concern radiating from him confused Shawn no end. He even tried to smile.

"That's right, son. It's okay. We're going to take you to hospital and get you all fixed up. What do you say?"

"Dad it hurts." He gasped, his less swollen hand reaching out to clutch at Henry, a sob starting as Henry gently coaxed him into sitting upright against the wall.

"I know it does, pal, I know - just lie back and let us do all the work, okay?"

"Dad..." he whispered again, and suddenly leant so that he was pushing his face into Henry's shoulder, his grip becoming tight on Henry's jacket; even with the broken fingers.

"I'm here," Henry whispered softly, wondering why the paramedics weren't there yet. "It's alright, kid - you'll be fine."

"It hurts so much," Shawn coughed out, his sobbing becoming more pronounced. Henry looked at his son and nearly threw up as he saw the extent of the injuries. He wanted to shoot the corpse they'd just taken away another thousand times.

"I bet it does - but we'll get you fixed up in no time." Henry had never seen his son in such pain. He was clearly in enough that he didn't care about their awkward relationship. He even seemed to be finding comfort in clutching his father.

"Hey, can you let us in please?" Henry could hear the paramedic at the top of the stairs and let out a breath. Thank God.

"Dad, please..." Shawn moaned, delirious from the pain, concussion and probably infection. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, it's fine, Shawn," Henry reassured him as he moved slightly to let the paramedics in. "You'll be fine, pal - you hear me?"

"We need to get him in _now,_" the paramedic glanced at him. "Are you coming?"

_Try and stop me, _was all Henry could think, whilst Shawn clutched as his hand. "Dad..." he repeated weakly, being loaded onto a stretcher.

"It's okay. I'm here, Shawny." His voice cracked slightly as he said it, but continued walking with the stretcher. They had just gotten outside, and Lassiter was waiting for them. He winced as he saw the mess those maniacs had made of their 'head psychic'.

"If he wasn't dead - I'd kill him a thousand times over." Lassiter growled. Gus nodded weakly, having been stood outside with Lassiter rather than go down there. Seeing Shawn in the light was even worse though. His trousers were covered in blood, his hands were bruised and swollen, his face bloody and a large cut down his arm surrounded by burns.

"I'll follow." Carlton said, getting in his car, with a face that dared someone to argue.

"Mr Spencer, do you need me to come with you, or...?" Gus asked, wincing at the sight of his best friend.

"Stay with Detective Lassiter, Gus." Henry told him, continuing to gently hold his son's hand.

As soon as the ambulance doors were closed, Henry turned to look at his son, and let himself cry.

**Waheyy, who doesn't love whump? I found out whilst writing this that I'm incredibly sadistic XD I heavily enjoyed doing those things to Shawn ;) Review? They inspire me like you wouldn't believe :P**


	6. Chapter 6

**Again, thank you all so much for the reviews, they really mean all the world to me :3 Here's another chapter for you all, and thanks to _HakuHunterNatural _who helped me with how to begin the chapter ;)**

_Last Chapter:_

_As soon as the ambulance doors were closed, Henry turned to look at his son, and let himself cry._

Chapter 6

Shawn heard a deep groaning noise. That can't have been good. Surely he should try and help? He attempted to sit up, but when he heard the groan again, he tried even faster.

_Wow _that hurt.

Oh.

That was _him _groaning.

"Okay, Shawn - just lie back. Let the paramedics do their job."

Dad. Shawn's brain managed to connect that voice with his dad.

"Dad?" He croaked, just to make sure. Hands that were holding his then gripped slightly tighter - not enough to hurt, but just enough to know that someone was there.

_Man _was he in pain. It was even worse than when he bet Gus he couldn't jump off his roof on his bicycle. They'd given him the _best _drugs at the hospital.

He didn't think they'd given him anything yet. Or maybe they had, but his injuries were that bad that they were having no effect.

Everything seemed to hurt. He vaguely remembered a bullet passing through his leg - was that still bleeding? He was envisioning dripping blood, pooling around him, the bruises getting larger from the beating, the electrocutions, drowning, stabbing...

"Shawn, Shawn - calm down," that was a very soothing voice. "You need to relax, kid."

He couldn't. He was just picturing how broken his body was. Surely he couldn't survive this? Sure, he was a fighter, and his dad would testify that he was stubborn as hell, but after the tortue he had endured, he had lost all optimism.

"Dad," he murmured, and felt someone move closer to him, as if they weren't sure he'd spoken, "Dad - I jus' - jus' wanna say that... I'm sorry..." he broke off, breathing rapidly. His little 'goodbye speech' was worrying him more than the pain, as if it really was the end. "And... everything I did... when I was younger - that annoyed you... I'm sorry..." he voice began to crack, and whether that was another injury or just emotions he wasn't altogether sure.

"Shawn - shut up." Ah the good old Henry Spencer stand-by. "You're not dying, and you have nothing to apologise for."

"I'm sorry I never became a cop," Shawn continued, as if he hadn't heard him. "An', an' I'm sorry I blamed you for Mom leaving... Tell Gus I..."

"Tell him yourself, Shawn," Henry grumbled, worrying. "You can tell him everything when you're better."

"I love you, Dad..." Shawn whispered, not knowing whether it was tears, sweat or blood dripping down his face. "'M sorry I never told you before..."

There was a pause. It was fine when he had been apologising. But when _feelings _came out into the open, neither Spencer really knew what to do.

Henry, however, stepped up. He could only remember one other time this happened. Shawn had heard both Henry and Madeline fighting one night, and they hadn't noticed until he caused a step to creak. They had quickly put him back to bed, shame twisting inside them as they looked into Shawn's worried, teary eyes. He'd told them he loved them, and they had assured him they loved him too.

Of course, that was when he was only 7.

More than 20 years since that had taken place, and Henry could only see the small boy, worried that Mommy and Daddy didn't love each other - or him.

"Not that you need to start telling me yet, Shawn," Henry said gruffly. "But I love you too."

His heart warmed as he saw Shawn's lips quirk slightly. "Thanks, Dad. Where's Mom?" His tone changed, causing Henry to look at the paramedic in concern.

"It's probably his fever," the medic told him. "He might be hallucinating."

"Why isn't she here?" Shawn started to whine, shifting to get more comfortable, sweat building on his forehead. The pain was unbearable. Mom would make it better.

"I need to call her..." Henry said uncomfortably. He never usually called her - even when it was about Shawn.

"She should be here..." Shawn gasped. "I need her..."

"Shawn - it's okay, I'm here," Henry tried to mollify his son, feeling awful that it appeared he was second best. Although his fever was very high; he may have been flashing back to his childhood.

Which was very cliche, Henry thought, feeling stupid after thinking it - but it was possible, right?

"Mom, it hurts!" Shawn whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut, tears leaking out. The ambulance pulled in at the hospital, and the medics started to get Shawn ready to go. Henry tried to pull himself out of the way, but it was hard. Shawn was still clinging to him with his one good hand.

"Sir, we need you to get out." The medic told him in a serious voice. Henry managed to tear himself away so they could get Shawn out.

They started using lots of medical terminology that Henry didn't understand - the only thing he heard was; "Dad!"

Shawn's cry of pain brought him right to his son's side. "I'm here, Shawny, I'm here."

They were wheeling him into the hospital, and a squeal of tires told him that Lassiter and Gus had arrived. He barely glanced in their direction, however and continued to stride next to the stretcher, keeping some sort of contact with his son.

"Mom..." Shawn whispered, his eyes rolling as he started to lost consciousness again. Then: "Daddy..."

Henry nearly stopped completely, forcing Lassiter to bump into him. The last time Shawn had called him that, he had been about 5. The medic saw this response. "Don't worry," he said. "His fever's pretty bad; he doesn't know what he's saying - we should be able to get it down."

They came to some double doors and the medic looked at him regretfully, "You can't come down here, Sir," he said. "There's a waiting room down there - we need to get him to surgery."

Henry nodded blankly, staring after the stretcher.

"Daddy's here." he whispered, almost absent-mindedly.

* * *

It had been nearly 2 hours. Gus fidgeted nervously on the uncomfortable plastic seat, biting his nails to the quick, all the while staring at the doors that Shawn had gone through. Juliet was sat next to him, and hand on his arm as she tried to help him get his feelings under control, as well as hers. Lassie was pacing and snarling like a wounded bear.

"Dammit, why won't they tell us what's happening?" He growled, not noticing the surprised looks he was getting. They didn't think he liked Shawn this much.

"They'll tell us when they're finished saving my son's life," Henry said coldly. "Stop pacing."

Lassiter slowly sat down. Henry seemed so calm. It appeared that whatever moment he had after Shawn went into surgery had soothed him. Whether he had bought coffee or a crossword, Carlton didn't know, but he seemed calmer than them all.

"Have you called his mom?" Gus asked, finally talking after his original garbled panic when they first arrived.

Henry's eyes narrowed.

"Want me to?" Gus asked in a small voice, afraid of having Henry lash out at him.

"No, I got it. I should've done it when he first went in. He wanted her here." Henry said the last part of that to himself, still thinking of his son's whimpering in the ambulance. He got up slowly, grimacing as he felt his back click. He went over to a payphone and rifled through his wallet to find her number. It was ironic that he kept it there for an emergency just like this, when he barely ever called her in emergencies. He would have completely forgotten had both Shawn and Gus not brought it up.

It rang a few times before finally being answered. The other three in the waiting area watched with a somewhat morbid curiosity and listened in.

"Hey, Maddy, I - yeah, it's Henry. Listen, how far away are you from Santa Barbara? Oh, you're - you're in town? I'm sure your son would have liked to know that. No I didn't - don't hang up, this is urgent!" For a moment, Gus, Juliet and Carlton all held their breath, wondering what would happen, but it appeared that Madeline had stayed on the line. "It's Shawn. He's in hospital. I don't know, they're still working on him and won't tell me anything - yes as in 'surgery'! It's a long story... yes it's do with his business - how can you say this is my fault? No, I - yeah. Come down. I can explain it then. Alright."

He hung up the phone, displeased with how the conversation had gone. He seemed to be in an even fouler mood than before, and no one dared say anything. Lassiter once more stood up and started to pace. He and Juliet were going to deal with the paperwork of this case, but the Chief said softly that the could do it later. The only reason she and half the unit wasn't there was because there was still a department to run.

"Family of Shawn Spencer?" Both Gus and Juliet jumped and stood up, Carlton stopped pacing and Henry slowly got off his chair. "Shawn's injuries were quiet severe," the doctor told them, not noticing them all glancing at the blood on his scrubs. "He sustained a broken hand, concussion, several cracked and a few broken ribs, he received a gunshot wound in his right leg, many burns from what looks like electrocution and he was stabbed in his left arm, which has the majority of the electrical burns. We also found some water in his lungs, which indicates a possible drowning attempt. He also has _many _bruises from a bad beating, and he had the beginnings of internal bleeding when we got him on the table."

Juliet and Gus both looked horrified, and it wasn't clear who was holding who up. Carlton's face was twisted into pure rage, whilst Henry looked like he could quite happily go to Volpe and kill him with one finger.

"How is he?" Henry asked slowly.

"We managed to stop the bleeding, we've done what we can for the burns and breaks - it took a while to clean the stab and gunshot wounds. We've had to strap up his leg and he had quite a nasty cut on his head that we had to bandage up. He's stable though. We want to keep him for a while as we want to continue observing him, but I am cautiously confident he will make a full recovery."

Gus very nearly _did _faint from pure relief, and he and Juliet hugged each other, as Jules had tears streaming down her face. Lassiter looked very much the same as he had when they first came in, but Henry nodded and calmly asked: "Can I see him?"

"Yeah - he'll be groggy; that's if he's awake at all. Don't over-excite him, I'm cautious of his lungs, given the drowning." Henry nodded and brushed past the man to find his son's room.

* * *

Henry entered the room to find a nurse quickly giving Shawn the once over before she left for the night. "I'm Nurse Willows - feel free to call me Jane. I'm just checking his IV - it's getting his temperature down as well as giving him the antibiotics needed to combat the infection. If you need anything, there's a call button. Press it and the on-duty nurse will come and help. Okay?" She smiled, and Henry quickly copied it in response, before grabbing a chair in the corner and pulling it towards Shawn's bed.

Jane understood his lack of response and swiftly left, leaving the Spencers alone.

Henry put his hand on the one that wasn't bandaged. Shawn looked liked a mummy. There were bandages _everywhere, _and where there was bare flesh there were bruises or burns. Henry winced at the spectacular one around his son's eye, and for the hundredth time wished he had been the one to kill Wilson.

"Dad...?" Henry looked up as he heard the croak from the bed. Shawn was blinking with one eye, the other being swollen shut.

"Hey, pal - how do you feel?"

"Like I was... water-boarded, then electro-electrocuted... then shot n' stabbed..." Shawn replied softly, closing his eyes again and drifting back to - what Henry hoped it was anyway - sleep.

"Henry?" He looked to the door to see Lassiter, Juliet and Gus stood there. "How's he doing?"

"He just woke up for a second," Henry informed them, his mouth straight in an angry line. "But he should be getting better." His tone implied he didn't think the doctors were helping much.

"He will." This affirmation came from Lassiter, who was rewarded with a slight smile from Henry.

His smile turned into a frown, however, when he asked: "Shawn said he'd been 'water-boarded'. That make any sense to you?"

He was shocked when Lassiter started to growl, and even pale slightly. Gus gulped and Juliet looked horrified.

"That bad?" Henry asked, uncertain.

"They must have put a cloth over his head and poured water on him," Juliet informed Henry, shaking. "It simulates drowning..."

"Those bastards..." Henry growled, his grip on Shawn's hand getting tighter until he saw his son mumble and frown slightly in his sleep. He immediately let go and stood up.

"I'm going for coffee," he told everyone. "Anyone want anything?" They all replied in the negative so he left, going towards the hospital cafeteria.

"Henry?"

He was halfway through purchasing his drink, when he heard his ex-wife behind him.

**Not exactly a cliff-hanger seeing as you knew she was coming, but it's the best I could do ;) Please, review, I honestly love getting them and they fuel my muse :) Oh, and that bit about Shawn saying 'I love you' when he was young - I took that from a deleted scene from 'Ghosts' I think :P Review?**


	7. Chapter 7

**It's makes me so happy to see how much y'all love the Shawn!whump ;) We can all be weird together :P**

_Last Chapter:_

_"Henry?"_

_He was halfway through purchasing his drink, when he heard his ex-wife behind him._

Chapter 7

"Maddy - " Henry began, before being quickly interrupted.

"Don't you '_Maddy_' me!" She fumed. "This is your fault! If he'd turned out normal instead of your stupid training he wouldn't have this business!"

Henry was in shock. Madeline was extremely proud of Shawn's business. She may not have appreciated Henry teaching him what he had when Shawn was younger, but she admitted that she was proud of what he was doing. After all, he was still trying to _help _people.

"If he'd turned out _normal_?" Henry asked quietly. He was the first to admit that his son was _abnormal _but he had never heard his ex-wife talk about their child like that. She had always been proud that her son was different, intelligent and was even happy he was often hyper and stuck in his imagination a lot.

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it!" Madeline argued, paling slightly. "I just mean if he was as observant as the rest of us!"

"Can we not talk about this now?" Henry asked. He'd wanted to argue all night, but right now he felt weary. He should be with his son. "Can we focus on Shawn being in the hospital?"

Her lips pursed but she nodded, eyeing the cup of coffee in his hands. "How long has he been here?"

"A few hours," Henry replied tiredly, slowly walking back to the waiting room where Juliet, Carlton and Gus were still sat. "He needed surgery."

As he filled her in on her son's injuries, she grew more pale, sitting down quietly next to Carlton, who cleverly decided that now was not the time to try and talk to her about his problems again. "How did it all happen?" She asked quietly. "Drowning, electrocution... I know Shawn's clumsy, but..."

"A case we were working on," Carlton informed her, "one of your ex-husband's old ones. A killer called Oliver Volpe - "

"_Him_?" Maddy practically screamed. "You let Shawn take on this case? What were you _thinking_, Henry?"

"I told him not to!" Henry defended himself. "I specifically told him not to take the case - you know what he's like, of course he took it anyway!"

"He thought he could find Volpe and his partner Wilson on his own," Gus chipped in quietly, still feeling sick as he relived the horrors of the day. "And he went to an old factory. I guess Wilson was waiting there - he started to..." Gus couldn't go on, but Madeline was smart enough to understand.

"I want to see him," she said darkly, and no one denied her.

"I'll show you to his room," Henry offered, but she shook her head, walking down the corridor herself.

Henry sighed and slid down his chair. "Well that went well."

* * *

When she found Shawn's room she gasped quietly, seeing the state of her son. She took in the bandages and bruising, and the concern was flaring up, right next to the anger she felt at her ex-husband and the men who did this.

"Oh, Goose," she sighed, sitting down and gently grasped his slightly less maimed hand. Tears started to flow down her face as she looked over his face with a mother's eye, knowing from years of practice how much each bruise would be hurting, how much pain would be caused by which broken bone...

Then she tried to muster up some of the firey optimism Shawn had no doubt inherited from her. When - not _if _but _when_ he woke up, she would have to deal with his annoyance at being trapped in bed for who knew how long. His irritability that often arised when cooped up inside with nothing to keep his extraordinary mind busy.

She hadn't meant what she said earlier to Henry, about their son not being normal. She loved Shawn and it had torn her apart to leave home all those years ago, and she couldn't think for a moment that he wasn't... wasn't _right_.

"He asked for you."

She turned to see Henry stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, trying not to look at their son. "When he was in the ambulance," he said slowly. "He asked me where you were. It was the fever talking," he added quickly, in case his ex-wife felt any guilt over _not _being there.

However, she took the opposite view. "How _dare _you suggest that the only reason Shawn wants to see me is because he had a _fever_!" She practically yelled, causing a nurse walking past to give them disapproving glares.

"Maddy, that's not what I - " Henry started.

"Oh I know what you meant, Henry," Madeline interrupted scathingly. "You think I'm a bad mother for leaving when I did!"

"No, that's not what - "

"Guys, I thought you were supposed to be _quiet _in an invalid's room," came a scratchy, weak voice from the bed. Both parents winced slightly. They had always tried to argue when Shawn wasn't around. It was still the same 20 years on, even if he was about 3 feet taller than before and with a successful business.

"I'm sorry, sweetie - " Madeline began.

"Mom! You're here!" Shawn smiled happily, pleased that his mother was in the room.

She smiled too. "Well I wasn't going to stay at home when your dad told me what happened, was I?" Her face then turned slightly more serious. "Now - how about you tell me what happened."

"Mom, I don't really..." Shawn faltered, not really knowing what to say. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to forget what had taken place for at least a few hours. He could tell by his parents' worried looks that he didn't look as amazing as he usually did.

"Okay, Shawny, okay," Madeline smiled sadly. "But you know, in my experience, talking about it sooner rather than - "

"I don't _want _to talk about it!" Shawn suddenly snapped, putting all his force into his voice, which kept cracking as he yelled. "I don't _want _to tell you what happened. I want to _forget _about it! Don't you get it?" His face looked pained, desperate. "If I think about it, then I have to face up to the fact that it happened; and I don't _want _to. I want to stay like_ me_ - rash, leaping-before-looking and if I keep thinking about this, then I'll get paranoid and end up hiding tasers in the birdhouse in the garden!" He started to gasp for air slightly and stopped, flopping back onto the pillow, refusing to look at his shocked parents.

"Shawn - " Henry tried, but decided it wouldn't be worth it, seeing as his son was looking away as far as he could.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Madeline's gentle, loving voice surprised Henry, but what surprised him more was the look on Shawn's face as he realised what had happened, and how he'd just yelled at his mother.

"Mom," he whispered. "I'm sorry - I'm so, _so _sorry..." his voice kept getting smaller and quieter, and Henry could swear he saw tears slowly falling down Shawn's face.

"You have _nothing _to apologise for," Madeline told him firmly, taking him into a gentle hug and giving Henry a very clear face that said 'either come and help or get out'.

He left, knowing that comforting wasn't really his forte.

* * *

"How's Shawn?" Juliet asked as they saw Henry walk back to them.

He sat down with a sigh, rubbing at his tired face. "He's awake," he said shortly. "But he got a little angry when his mother asked him what happened," he gave a small snort as if he secretly firmly agreed with Shawn that it was too early to talk about it. Hell, Henry was the master of never really talking about issues. But, he thought, grimly proud, that his son could possibly take that title.

"He should be resting," Juliet said disapprovingly.

"I'm sure she can calm him down," Henry replied, not saying that he had seen Shawn about to have a breakdown in his mother's arms.

They all waited in silence for about 10 minutes before both Juliet and Gus could stand it no longer. "That's it, I'm going to see him," Juliet said, standing up, quickly followed by Gus, and - after a while - Lassiter.

"I don't think that's a good idea - like you said; he should be _resting_," Henry told them all savagely. He tried to breathe slowly as they all ignored him and went down the corridor. _Dammit_, he thought, before following.

* * *

"Can you hear singing?" Juliet whispered to the others as they approached his room. They all strained and could hear a woman singing softly. "Is that your wife? I mean, ex-wife?" Juliet asked quietly.

Henry nodded. "She must have been trying to calm Shawn down - that was one of the guaranteed ways to make him sleep when he was younger," they listened some more and he smiled slightly. "Sounds like she's singing his favourite."

Gus frowned. "That doesn't sound like Curt Smith."

They went a little more down the corridor until they were virtually outside his room. They stopped and all tried to crowd around the door to listen to Madeline singing softly: _"We'll begin with a spin, travelling in the world of my creation, what we'll see will defy explanation..."_

Henry smiled. The only reason he'd barely ever sung to Shawn as a kid was because Maddy was too damn good at it.

"That's a scarily apt song for Shawn," Gus muttered, and remembered one time ages ago when he and Shawn were about 7, and Shawn had insisted they watch 'Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory'. He had sung along with all the songs and as Gus remembered the lyrics, he knew why it was Shawn's favourite song.

_"If you want to view paradise - simply look around and view it. Anything you want to, do it - want to change the world? There's nothing to it..." _Madeline smiled slightly, brushing some of Shawn's hair off his forehead fondly, clearly thinking the same as Gus - the song might as well have been written _for _Shawn.

_"There is no life I know, to compare with pure imagination... Living there, you'll be free - if you truly wish to be..." _She stopped, and her voice became quieter as shle looked towards the door, blushing slightly. "He's asleep now," she looked at Henry, whatever malice that was in her expression before was now gone, and she seemed to have been comforted by comforting Shawn.

Henry smiled at her. "He could never stay awake when you sung that."

"If I recall correctly, Henry," Maddy said quietly, not wanting to wake Shawn up again. "What put him to sleep even faster was when you sung 'Hushabye Mountain'," her eyes glistened as she lightly teased her ex-husband, who blushed even more than she had done.

"Yeah, well," he said gruffly. "He was only 4, anything would've worked."

Gus and Juliet were beaming at this small insight into their friend's early life, and Carlton too, was having trouble keeping a small smile off his face. Although he was wondering how long it would take into Shawn's recovery before he could use this to mock him for.

"Mr Spencer, that's so sweet," Juliet cooed slightly, but at the look she was given she quickly slipped into the room to sit beside Shawn on the opposite side of the bed to Madeline. She couldn't grasp the hand on her side, as it was covered in bandages and she couldn't ignore the IV pushing different pain-killing drugs into his body.

"I'm going to get some coffee," Madeline said. "You'll all stay with him?" She asked.

"Of course," Gus replied, taking her seat. Henry and Lassiter decided to just lean against the walls instead, but they all kept the one vigil, and if Shawn was disturbed by their staring in his sleep, he didn't show it.

**Ah, for once - a chapter that doesn't end with a mild cliffhanger! Not a very eventful chapter I must admit, but the idea of Shawn's favourite song as a kid being 'Pure Imagination' was floating in my head for days :P It just suits him so much I reckon ;)  
****And YES it is meant as the film version and not the Glee one (Even though I love that one too XD) but the way I imagined Madeline singing it was a slower version, so more like towards the end of the song in the film :) If any of that made sense XD Please review? There isn't much longer to go in this story, but I'd appreciate all the support you've been continuously providing :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**So we'll be wrapping up soon guys :D Seeing as I write these A/N's before I write the chapter, I don't yet know how this one will play out ;) You'll have to read the A/N at the bottom to see if this is the last chapter or not :P (Edit after writing the chapter: it is :P)**

_Last Chapter:_

_"I'm going to get some coffee," Madeline said. "You'll all stay with him?" She asked._

_"Of course," Gus replied, taking her seat. Henry and Lassiter decided to just lean against the walls instead, but they all kept the one vigil, and if Shawn was disturbed by their staring in his sleep, he didn't show it._

Chapter 8

"Dad, I really don't need your help with this," Shawn said through gritted teeth, as he tried to pull himself out of bed, Henry hovering close by. "Believe it or not, I manage this most mornings without my father's help."

"Most mornings you have to pull yourself off the couch at Psych," Gus said snidely.

"The heating in my apartment blew, Gus - where else am I gonna sleep? You never let me in your apartment."

"You always put my cds in a new order when I'm not there, Shawn! How am I supposed to find my Aldo Nova greatest hits when you've put them _underneath _the cd rack?"

"Gus, it's in order of _awesomeness_! Where else would you expect an _Aldo Nova _cd to go?"

"Would both of you shut up?" Henry snapped. "Shawn, why didn't you tell me your heating wasn't working?"

Shawn blinked. "Dad - I'm a big boy now! I don't need to go to you if I can't fix something! I was going to call a plumber, but then I got distracted by _your _old case!"

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe deeply. "Shawn - just get out of bed."

"I am!" Shawn argued, slowly pulling the covers off to show off his bandaged gunshot on his leg. He groaned slightly as he finally placed his feet on the floor. He hadn't gotten out of bed for about 4 days now and was grimly enjoying it, despite the pain.

The doctors had said that he had been lucky with his leg - there hadn't been any nerve damage and it had been a through-and-through, so there hadn't been that much to patch up. They had also said he had been lucky with his arms. The bruising would eventually go, and there wouldn't be too much scarring.

Shawn had snorted at what they had said. Yeah, he was lucky alright.

Lucky.

He had nightmares still. Tied up with that maniac. He was just glad that no one he knew had been there to witness it. They would expect him to have been snarky to the end. To the end he had given up and had all but begged to be spared.

"Goose, I know how you don't like jello," Madeline came into the room holding a few pots and a spoon, "but you need to eat something or they'll put you on an IV," she paused, seeing her son stood up, and even though she could see the strained way he held himself, she was happy he had gotten up.

"Mom - I'd rather eat Dad's cooking than jello," Shawn grimaced, slowly taking a few hobbles towards her.

"Hey!" Henry said, affronted.

"Come on, Dad - your steaks? Lovely. Anything else? Not so good," Shawn said in what he thought was an appeasing manner.

"Shawn," his mother tried again, trying to prevent a fight. "I got you some pineapple flavoured jello," she smiled as his eyes lit up in delight. He took one of the pots from her delightedly and opened it, holding it in his bandaged hand, letting his less injured hand do most of the work.

"Shawn, you're up!" Juliet walked in, beaming at him.

"Jules! Yes I am, would you like some jello?" He asked her pleasantly, offering it before drawing it back to himself. "Let me ask you something first - are you a fan of delicious flavour?" He grinned and took a bite, before pulling an odd face and spitting it back into the pot. "That's disgusting," he said morosely. "Can't I have some real pineapple? Surely that's what you give invalids?"

"No, Shawn - that's what _you _give to people recovering in hospital," Gus told him, trying a bit of the jello from one of the other pots.

"Because _everyone _is a fan of delicious flavour!" Shawn argued, looking disgustedly at Gus, who appeared to enjoying the jello. "Plus, the ribbon I put on is to add some colour to the room, and makes it a very welcome gift."

Henry shook his head at Shawn's odd stream of thoughts and his bizarre love of pineapples. When Shawn was younger he was very much apposed to fruit. So one day he and Maddy had picked up the first fruit they could find in the house and tell Shawn that he wasn't allowed it.

They'd found the bits they purposefully cut up and left in a bowl gone.

And the next day at the supermarket, Shawn had begged for more pineapples.

"Mr Spencer, how are we today?" The doctor asked as he walked in, smiling benignly.

"Just peachy, Doc," Shawn replied, before looking stunned. "Actually, change that - just _pineappley_!" He looked extremely proud of this.

"We think that his medication has been affecting him somewhat," the doctor said, looking disconcerted. "He often talks nonsense after receiving it."

"Nope, this is him normally," Henry said, and as if on cue, a nurse walked in.

"Ready for your medication, Shawn?" She asked sweetly. "I know you need it."

"Now, Lindsay," Shawn said flirtatiously. "You know I'm perfectly fine; I'm ready for a bed bath, however," he winked.

She blushed but didn't reply as Henry growled. "Shawn, take the damn pain meds, I know you're in pain."

Shawn flinched, which jarred his shoulder and arm, making him reach out to the pills. He quickly took them, making the nurse smile at him and leave. "So, doc - when can I leave?"

"I want to keep you in for a bit longer," he replied, scribbling something on his clipboard. "But I'd be happy to discharge you in about... a week?"

"A week?" Shawn repeated. "No can do, Doc - ironically, I have a meeting on how to avoid hostage situations."

"You're staying for a week," Henry told him with a no-nonsense tone. "And then you'll be coming to stay at mine for a while."

Shawn flinched again and wanted to crawl back under the covers.

* * *

After 6 days - Shawn had annoyed the medical staff so much they had hastily said he didn't need to stay an extra night - Shawn was pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair, which he had vehemently argued against.

"Mom, I really don't need this - " he had pleaded.

"Shawn, let your old mother have this," she had retorted. "Let me make sure you at least leave the hospital safely."

Shawn was slightly confused at her tone. "What do you mean?" He asked softly. "Are you not staying?"

"Oh, Goose - I wish I didn't have to, but I'm leaving," she told him. "I already missed quite a few evals and my next job is in New York - I really can't afford not to go. Anyways," she said in a forced light tone, "I'm sure your dad will make sure you don't get into anything else dangerous before you're completely healed."

"I'll be surprised if I'm ever let out of the house again," Shawn mumbled, but brightened as they approached the exit. Outside, were a dozen officers, including Gus, Jules, Buzz, the Chief and Lassiter. Although he didn't look happy to be there, he was still there, which made Shawn smirk.

"Aw, guys - you didn't have to!" He exclaimed as Madeline pushed the chair over whilst Henry went to get his truck. "Do I get balloons?"

"Mr Spencer, the department wanted to commend you for your bravery - which cancels out the formal reprimand you would have gotten for disobeying my orders and nearly getting yourself killed," Karen said, trying to conceal a smile. She had been deeply worried about him.

"Aw, thank you Chief," he had beamed, carefully pushing himself up off the chair and limping over to them all. "Did you organise this, Buddy?" He asked Gus, looking around at the smiling faces of the department. "You should've seen our High School reunion," he told them all. "It was the best gymnasium-turned-Jamaican-esque forest I've ever seen."

"It was a Carribean theme, Shawn," Gus told him.

"Shawn!" Henry had arrived with his truck, so Shawn reluctantly said goodbye to his welcome party and went over.

"Make sure he doesn't tear his stitches, Henry," Madeline said worriedly, as Shawn slowly clambered into the truck.

"_He _is right here, so you can talk to _him _directly," Shawn told her, suddenly feeling very tired. On hearing the truck start, he opened his eyes which had suddenly closed and looked around. "Mom, you're not coming?"

"I need to catch my plane, sweetie," she told him, with a sad smile. "I'll call you."

"Yeah," Shawn replied. "Okay."

"You be careful!" She told him strictly. "I'll know if you haven't been!"

He smiled. "Bye, Mom."

She reached into the truck and gave him a gentle hug. "Be good for your father," she warned him.

Shawn chuckled.

* * *

"If your Dad catches you doing that..." Gus said worriedly, watching Shawn standing on a chair to reach something at the top of a cupboard in the kitchen.

"Gus, don't be one of the background smurfs that never got given names," Shawn reprimanded. "He's out - he won't know about this."

Gus had been called round to Shawn-sit while Henry was out for the day. Although it was 3 days since they arrived back from the hospital, Henry was still very much aware of what damage Shawn could do without constant supervision.

"I knew I should've been the one to get it," Gus huffed, watching uneasily as the chair Shawn was standing on started to wobble as he shifted forwards in an attempt to reach the box of lucky charms.

"And _I _knew that he had a box of these somewhere!" Shawn exclaimed triumphantly. "All those times when I was younger! 'No, Shawn, you can't have that cereal, it's bad for you!'" Shawn mocked in a gravelly tone, trying to sound like Henry. "And he has a whole box!" He turned to look at Gus. "Dude, the Super Smeller is improving - smelling it _from _the cupboard and _inside _the box? Nice work, man!" He grinned and threw the box down to Gus.

"Shawn, I think he'll realise if we eat some of it," Gus told him, placing the box on the counter.

"Nonsense - for a few days now I've been sneakily suggesting he has mice. We'll get a mouse, make it take a few nibbles, then - " Shawn wobbled uncontrollably on the chair and before he could get off, it came crashing to the floor.

"Shawn!" Gus knelt down, knowing he would be killed by Henry if Shawn had to go back to the hospital.

"Lighten up, buddy, I'm good," Shawn groaned, clutching at his ribs. Several had been broken, and Gus was now worried that he had broken them again. "I'm fine - there's not that much pain. And nothing's gone 'ping', so I'm fine," he carefully pulled himself off the floor, and was on his knees as Henry came through the door, with Lassiter behind him.

They had clearly been talking and laughing about something, but the mood changed as Henry spied both Gus and Shawn knelt down, with Shawn holding his stomach. "Shawn, are you alright?" Henry asked, hurrying over. Lassiter tried to look less concerned but his mouth was twitching as he attempted to look casual.

"I'm fine, Dad - Gus wanted to practice his dance routine based off Footloose. I told him it was dangerous, but he insisted," Gus elbowed him in the back, causing him to wince slightly.

"Shawn - the doctor said that the best cure is _rest_," Henry told him, waiting for him to get to his feet before pulling him over to the couch.

"Dad, I'm fine - and what's Lassie doing here?" Shawn asked, only just seeing the detective as he hung back in the living room.

"We were fishing," Carlton said. "And..." he gave a glance to Henry. "And your dad wanted me to get in touch with the department psychologist - "

"What?" Shawn tried to jump back up, before realising that the couch was extraordinarily comfy. "Dad, did you stuff swan feathers in this? I feel like I'm on a cloud..."

"Gus, fetch a blanket or something," Henry ordered. "And yes, Shawn - a psychologist. Don't give me that look," he warned, as Shawn tried to pout at him, "it'll be good for you. You're still having nightmares."

"Daaaad," Shawn whined, not wanting Lassiter to know about them. "It's fine - they're only a few. And hey, at least they both got justice, right? Wilson died, and Volpe..." he looked at his dad and Carlton. "What happened to him?"

"We got some new evidence from a van that originally didn't turn up in the first investigation," Carlton said, looking smug. "Blood from all the previous victims was in there. That and the fact he only recently got out of prison, and his involvement in your kidnap - he's serving two life sentences."

Shawn beamed.

"Two?" Gus questioned. "But isn't the blood in the van circumstantial?"

"We can now definitely link him to three more victims," Lassiter told him. "And they were all cops. Cop killers don't get much sympathy in court. The jury decided in 20 minutes."

Shawn felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He couldn't believe how worried he had felt about his torturers. In his nightmares, Wilson didn't get shot and kept beating him, and Volpe got out early on good behaviour, or escaped. He couldn't do that with _two _life sentences. He'd be in a high security lockdown.

He felt a hand squeeze his uninjured shoulder - although many of his wounds were healing nicely - and he looked up to receive a small smile from his dad. He smiled back and laid back down on the couch. Snuggling into the blanket that Gus had found for him. "Thanks, man," he whispered to his friend, turning onto his back to get comfortable. His leg was still heavily bandaged.

Lassiter cleared his throat awkwardly. "Now, Spencer; about that psychologist - "

"I wouldn't bother, Carlton," Henry told him softly, a smile on his face.

Shawn had fallen asleep.

* * *

Henry pushed himself out of bed and wearily began the trek to Shawn's old room. It had been years since he had done this, and yet in the few days his son had returned to stay to recover, he had been doing it in more and more recently.

He had heard the blankets being shoved to one side, had heard the small moans from his son's room. He opened the door and gently put his hands on Shawn's shoulders.

"Alright, kid - I think you know the drill by now; easy does it," with that, he gingerly moved Shawn over so that he could sit at the side of the bed, with his hands still on his son's shoulders.

"No - please... don't..." Shawn muttered, and Henry winced, because he knew now that after the muttering came the whimpering. And if he wasn't careful or quick enough, after the whimpering came the screaming.

"Please... Dad, please..." Shawn started to whimper now, and Henry kept rubbing at his back. Usually he could get him to quieten, but now he realised he would either have to wake him up, or wait for him to start screaming.

"Shawn - Shawn, wake up, kid - come on, wake up for me," he said softly, patting Shawn's cheeks.

Shawn suddenly leapt up, taking in a large breath as though he hadn't been able to breathe for a few minutes. His eyes were large and frenzied, as he looked around, wondering where Wilson and Volpe had gone. Instead, his eyes latched onto Henry, who was trying to calm him.

"There we go, it's okay, pal - deep breaths," Henry gently coached him, not wincing when Shawn clutched hold of his wrists and refused to stop clinging.

After a while, Shawn's breaths evened out, and he became more calm. He slowly let go of his dad's wrists and gave a small, nervous sounding laugh, pushing his hand through his hair. "Guess I nearly cut off the circulation to your wrists, huh?"

"I'll live," Henry replied, giving him a small smile. "Think you can go back to sleep?"

"Uh, yeah," Shawn gave an embarrassed sounding cough. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks... Night, Dad..."

"Sure, kid," Henry stood up and gave him a small pat on the back before leaving the room.

Shawn huddled back under the covers. All things considered, the nightmares weren't as bad as they could have been. They'd been getting better... He gave a sigh which turned into a pained gasp as he rolled over onto his shoulder. Not only had he already been scarred by this man, the scar was now bigger since it had been cut over it once more. It had been getting fainter, since he'd had it since childhood.

_And hey_; he thought bitterly - _chicks dig scars_.

* * *

Exactly one month later, Shawn was bounding around the police station, his hair perfectly styled and his manner perfectly annoying enough for Lassiter to want to shoot him. "Lassie, I'm sensing a lot of negative energy around you today," Shawn told him seriously, slurping on a smoothie.

"Maybe it's because it's your first day back here after being cleared by the psychologist and I already wish he'd declared you as incompetent," Carlton snarled. He already had a headache, he really didn't need to talk to the human version of one.

Shawn frowned in a hurt manner, but the Chief shouted from her office: "Mr Spencer, Detective; I have a case you might be interested in."

Shawn beamed in a way that lit up the room, and his eyes shined as he bounded towards the office happily. Lassiter wanted to growl or roll his eyes, but he found himself unable to. He had in fact missed the annoying 'psychic' who had come to be like a member of the department (Not that he'd ever admit it) and after talking to the psychologist, he was happy that Spencer had opened up about what happened and now seemed to have put it behind him.

"Lassie, come quick - the Chief said we're working together! This is sweet, I can finally synchronise my watch with yours!"

He managed a growl and quickly hid his smile as he entered the office.

**Aw, Lassie - you know you love him really ;) In a completely non-slash way (Sorry slashfans :P) But yay :D That's it! Finished! Thanks so much to everyone who has read, favourited, reviewed - if you could all review for this last chapter I would appreciate it to heck and back :D**

**And I wanted to say; it may seem like Shawn has gotten over this ordeal really quickly, but if you notice in the show, he seems to do that alot. He was fine after being shot and kidnapped, and beaten and kidnapped etc etc, so I reckon he _can _get over something like this relatively easily :)**

**One more thing, then I'll say goodbye ;) On my profile I have a little idea under my 'Possible future typedy-typings' for a new Psych fic - if you reckon it could turn into someting readable, please pm me and tell me :D Thanks guys - I love you all :)**


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